The aftermath of the attack was a blur of activity.
The dead were counted, the wounded were treated, and the mansion’s defenses were rebuilt stronger than before.
Roswaal had returned from his business in the capital, his expression grim as he surveyed the damage.
“An inside informant,” he said, his voice cold.
“The Cult knew exactly where to strike, exactly when our defenses were weakest.
Only someone within the mansion could have provided that information.”
Ayanokoji stood in Roswaal’s study, his arms crossed.
“I’ve been thinking about that.
The Cult’s attack was too precise, too coordinated.
They knew Emilia’s location, the guard rotations, even the layout of the mansion’s defenses.
It wasn’t luck.”
“Then we have a traitor among us.” Roswaal’s mismatched eyes glittered with barely contained fury.
“I will find them.
And when I do, they will wish they had never been born.”
Ayanokoji nodded.
“I’ll help.
But we need to be careful.
The traitor is clearly intelligent and resourceful.
They won’t be easy to catch.”
The investigation began immediately.
Ayanokoji interviewed every servant, every guard, every resident of the mansion.
He asked questions, noted inconsistencies, and built a profile of the likely traitor.
The answer came from an unexpected source.
Ram approached him one evening, her expression unusually serious.
“I’ve noticed something,” she said quietly.
“One of the newer servants—a girl named Elsa—has been acting strangely.
She’s been asking questions about Lady Emilia’s schedule, the mansion’s security, things that shouldn’t concern her.”
Ayanokoji’s eyes narrowed.
“Where is she now?”
“I don’t know.
I haven’t seen her since.”
Disappeared, Ayanokoji thought.
Either she was killed, or she fled with the Cult.
Either way, she’s our best lead.
He organized a search, but Elsa was nowhere to be found.
The mansion’s records showed that she had been hired three months ago, with excellent references and a clean background.
All of it, Ayanokoji suspected, was fabricated.
“The Cult planted her,” he told Roswaal.
“They’ve been planning this for months, maybe longer.
She was a sleeper agent, waiting for the right moment to strike.”
“Then the Cult is more sophisticated than I thought.” Roswaal’s expression was thoughtful.
“They’re not just fanatics.
They’re strategists.”
“Which makes them more dangerous.” Ayanokoji paced the study, his mind racing.
“They’ve shown they can infiltrate our defenses.
We need to assume they have other agents, other plans in motion.
We can’t trust anyone.”
“Even each other?”
Ayanokoji paused.
It was a fair question.
Trust was a luxury they couldn’t afford, but paranoia could be equally destructive.
“We need to verify everyone’s background,” he said finally.
“Everyone who has access to Emilia-sama.
If there are other agents, we need to find them before they strike again.”
The vetting process took days.
Every servant, every guard, every cook and stable boy was questioned, their backgrounds investigated, their loyalties tested.
It was tedious work, but necessary.
The Cult had proven they could infiltrate the mansion once.
In the end, they found two more agents—a gardener who had been providing information about the mansion’s grounds, and a messenger who had been intercepting communications.
Both were quietly removed, their fates left to Roswaal’s discretion.
“We’ve plugged the leaks,” Ayanokoji reported to Emilia.
“But the Cult will adapt.
They’ll find new ways to infiltrate, new methods of attack.
We need to stay vigilant.”
Emilia nodded, her expression tired but determined.
“I understand.
But we can’t live in constant fear.
That’s what the Cult wants—to make us paranoid, to turn us against each other.”
“Agreed.
But caution is not the same as fear.
We can be vigilant without being consumed by suspicion.”
Emilia smiled softly.
“You always know what to say to make me feel better.”
Ayanokoji felt a flicker of something—warmth, perhaps, or gratitude.
He pushed it aside.
“I’m just stating facts.”
The conversation ended, and Ayanokoji returned to his room.
The investigation had been successful, but it had also revealed how vulnerable they truly were.
The Cult had resources, patience, and a willingness to sacrifice their own people for the cause.
They were a formidable enemy.
But they’re not invincible, he thought.
They make mistakes.
They leave traces.
And as long as they do, I can find them.
The game continued, and Ayanokoji was determined to stay one step ahead.